


Comparing Scars

by EntameWitchLulu



Series: Femslash February 2021 [9]
Category: Senki Zesshou Symphogear
Genre: F/F, Partial Nudity, Past Abuse Mention, Post-Canon, Scars, trauma mention, violence mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29707062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EntameWitchLulu/pseuds/EntameWitchLulu
Summary: When Tsubasa shows off one of her battle scars, Chris knows this is a competition she can definitely win. She might not be ready for the feelings that comparing scars brings up, though.
Relationships: Kazanari Tsubasa/Yukine Chris
Series: Femslash February 2021 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139543
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	Comparing Scars

As Tsubasa pushed the sleeves back from her arms, Chris’s eyes caught the long, white scar that twisted up the side of her arm, and her lips parted. She paused in the middle of lifting the box, and her sudden stop caught Tsubasa’s eyes. She frowned, and then followed Chris’s gaze to the scar on her arm. She smiled, holding it up.

“Noise hit my arm and shattered part of my gauntlet once,” she said. “The shard cut in deep. Didn’t notice until I’d transitioned back after the battle.”

“Looks like it hurt,” Chris said.

“Not really. Like I said, I didn’t notice until afterward. Let me show you a real scar.”

She grinned as she pushed her sleeve back further, pressing her finger against a thick, slightly raised scar against her left shoulder.

“That one was my fault. Didn’t hold onto my sword well enough during one of my first fights, and nicked myself with One Thousand Tears. Kanade had to swing in and protect me.”

Chris snorted. The way Tsubasa said it, as though despite the embarrassing reason for the scar, she was somehow proud of it.

“You think that’s a real scar?” she said, putting down the box, briefly distracted from her task of helping Tsubasa organize her attic. “Let me show  _ you _ a real scar.”

She tugged the hem of her shirt from where it was tucked into her skirt, and pulled it up to show her lower belly, and the thick, nasty dent in her lower torso.

“Debris from a Noise attack got me right here,” she said, smirking. “I shot it down and the rest of its squad with it still sticking out of me.”

“Oh, are we having a contest, now?” Tsubasa said, smirking back. She leaned down and unzipped her boot, pushing down one sock to show off the long, branched scar from the side of her knee all the way to her calf. “Flying Noise, drilled right through my gauntlet. Ryoko-san was pissed she had to rebuild that whole piece.”

“If it’s a contest, you definitely can’t win,” Chris said. “Check out this one: burn mark from one of those missiles that just barely missed me when we fought those fascists in Val Verde.”

“Oh really? Well, take a look at this one.”

Tsubasa pointed out another scar, and Chris one-upped her again. There was a competitive grin on Tsubasa’s lips, now, and Chris grinned back. There was definitely no way she could lose a battle of cool scars.

She flushed, though, when Tsubasa turned around and lifted up the back of her shirt, the edge of her bra just visible, and clapped her hands over her eyes.

“H-hey, hang on! Do that somewhere else!”

“There’s no one else home,” Tsubasa said, with a mischievous snicker. “And I thought you said I couldn’t beat you? How will you know that if you don’t take a look at these?”

Chris’s cheeks were hot against her palms, but she peeked between her fingers. Tsubasa’s back was long and slender, the line of her spine just barely visible underneath the thin web of twisted white scars that ran all down her skin.

“Backfire from Ame no Habakiri,” Tsubasa said. “Can you beat that?”

It caused the heat to drain from Chris’s face, looking at those scars. For a moment, all she could do was stand there, staring at them, at the network of scars that had twisted Tsubasa’s otherwise strong, supple back. Her hands still cupped to her face, eyes staring between her fingers at...at  _ her fault _ .

Tsubasa looked over her shoulder when Chris didn’t respond, frowning.

“Yukine?”

Chris covered her eyes again.

“Is that...was that from your....from the Swan Song?”

She pressed her hands harder against her eyes, trying to blot out the light from the attic windows. Tsubasa didn’t respond right away, and in the silence, all Chris could do was  _ think _ , think the things she didn’t want to remember. Remember scars that she didn’t want to think about, ones that she  _ couldn’t  _ hold up as badges of honor, but only memories of pain and hurt and all the ways she’d ruined her own life. All she could think of, now, was Tsubasa standing over her, the blood leaking from her eyes like tears, the cracks running through her armor, as Chris tried to drag herself to her feet and escape from the energy that had just ripped through her. But it had been her fault. She had driven Tsubasa to her last-ditch effort. She had  _ deserved  _ it — 

“Chris.”

The sound of her first name startled Chris out of her panic, and she dropped her hands from her eyes without thinking about it. Tsubasa stood in front of her. Her shirt still hung open, from where she’d had to pop the buttons in order to lift it to show her back.

“I’m sorry,” Tsubasa said. “I should have thought about it.”

“N-no, what are you apologizing for?” Chris said, her throat tight and shaky. “I — it was —  _ I _ did that —”

Tsubasa’s fingers were cool, and gentle, as they touched the side of her neck. Chris shuddered, her lips parting while Tsubasa’s fingers found the thin scar along the left side.

“I did this one, didn’t I?” Tsubasa said, tracing it. “When I cut the collar off your next on Frontier.”

“Stupid,” Chris said. “Don’t change the subject. You were  _ saving  _ me when you did that. I just — because of me, you almost —”

“Almost,” Tsubasa said, letting her hand slide to Chris’s shoulder. “That’s an important distinction.”

“If I hadn’t — if I had only listened —”

“You were someone else then,” Tsubasa said. “We all have ghosts in our pasts, Yukine. It’s not fair of us to judge who we were for the choices we made when we felt we had no other option.”

She raised both her eyebrows then, catching and holding Chris’s gaze.

“Which, I might add: I  _ chose _ to use my Swan Song that day.”

“But if I hadn’t —”

“And if I had put aside my anger with Tachibana aside earlier, perhaps we would not have been trapped in a situation in which I felt it was my only option,” Tsubasa said evenly. “The point is, Yukine — you’re here  _ now _ .”

Her fingers were cool as they once again traced the scar on Chris’s neck, and then slid gently around to cup the back of her head. Her shirt being open was, Chris realized, extremely distracting. She had more scars, there, too, on her stomach and near her collarbone. More from the backfire of her Swan Song, or from something else? She had no idea.

“ _ We’re  _ here now,” Tsubasa said, softly. “And regardless of the choices we made, we made it. We got here.  _ You _ got here.”

Chris inhaled sharply when Tsubasa leaned down, when her breath tickled the skin of her neck as Tsubasa pressed a gentle kiss to the scar. Automatically, Chris reached for her, sliding arms around her and hugging her close while Tsubasa’s breath tickled her skin. Her hand slid against Tsubasa’s bare back almost by accident, and she could feel them, then, the slightly raised web of scars from years of battle.

“It’s fucked up that we have so many, isn’t it?” Chris whispered. She sucked in a breath as she felt Tsubasa’s fingers run gently down the length of her spine, tracing scars that she yet couldn’t see and couldn’t know were there.

Tsubasa nodded.

“It is,” she said. “But they show us how much we survived.”

Chris laughed, but it was a tight sound.

“We shouldn’t have had to survive. We should have just had to live.”

“No,” Tsubasa said. “We shouldn’t have.”

Chris didn’t know she was crying until Tsubasa kissed her cheek gently, and then Chris buried her face in Tsubasa’s shoulder, and let the two of them slide to the ground, holding each other. Tsubasa’s hands were soft and gentle as they rubbed Chris’s back soothingly, and beneath Chris’s fingers, she could still feel the web of scars, and she traced them almost like a meditation.

“We did make it, didn’t we?” Chris said. “Sometimes it feels like it’s all a lie.”

Tsubasa kissed her neck gently again, and the feel of her breath on Chris’s skin felt like a blessing.

“We did,” she said. “You aren’t dreaming.”

Chris squeezed her eyes shut, and tightened her grip on Tsubasa. She held on tightly, as though letting go would mean that she would disappear, and she’d be alone again.

But Tsubasa didn’t disappear. 

Their scars didn’t either. But maybe, right now, that was all right.


End file.
